Jay Rock – Vice City feat. Black Hippy Lyrics

Share this:

(Chorus – Kendrick Lamar)
Big money, big booty bi**hes
Man that s**t gon be death of me
Big problems, I must admit it
Man that s**t gon be death of me
I pray to a C-Note, my mama gave up hope
I can’t stand myself
I just bought a new coat, I might go broke
I can’t stand myself
Big money, big booty bi**hes
Man that s**t

(Verse 1 – Kendrick Lamar)
Big money, big booty bi**hes
Tell the truth, ni**a I’m lost without it
7 figures for a headline
You want some stage time we can talk about it
Ni**as acting like they be rapping
Like nice on the mic, truly doubt it
Go against the king, y’all don’t wanna live
That decision is hella childish
Rose gold for my old hoes
They ain’t satisfied then I sit em down
10th grade, I gave her all shade
But now she got some ass, I wanna hit it now
I don’t lease, I just all out feast
I put a blue Caprice on Gary Coleman
Bomb head and some cheese eggs
That’s a new raise, and a signing bonus

(Verse 2 – Jay Rock)
Fall in this bi**h
Like some good pu**y, can’t stand myself
So good, she so hood
She a cheesehead, patty melt
GED with some EBTs, and some EBD’s
That s**t was happening
She reel me in with some chicken wings
And some collard greens, that s**t was bracking
Just cracked me a new bi**h
Bust a new nut on her ni**a’s jersey
My bi**h get off at 9 o’clock
So I had to shake her round 7:30
105, I’m stomping fast
With these big guns, I’m hella dirty
Get caught with this s**t
I ain’t coming home til like 2030

(Verse 3 – Ab-Soul)
Mental window blurry as a bi**h
Still looking out it
So much money off the f**king books
Could write a book about it
Took a minute, no, wait a minute
Let me think about it
Bout 10 years, Crips, Bloods
Sweat and tears and we still counting
Had a real thick bi**h named Brooklyn
She f**ked the whole squad
Now every time I land in Brooklyn
They f**k with the whole squad
I’m more spiritual than lyrical
I’m similar to Eli Why?
Cause I’m wearing black shades
And I’m headed west with the word of God
I think I’m finally ready to talk about it
These ni**as just talk about it
Homie you don’t play me for no fool
Popping bottles like in enemigos, los dios mio, I’m so cold
Get so deep in that water, water
They should call my johnson a harpoon

(Bridge – Jay Rock)
Feed the needy, don’t know graffiti
Paint her walls like a cartoon
Beat the pu**y up so bad
Send her home with some war wounds
Loaded off the gnac, hit her from the back
Going cross her head bar stool
Touch her soul til I curl her toes
Then it’s time to reload, then it’s part two

(Verse 4)
Damn near 30 still set tripping cuz
Where you’re from, I’mma see about it
Last year I made 10 million
That’s where I’ve been yeah, a private island
Smoking something, on autopilot
Got too many cars, I might crash a whip
New Rari pedal barely tapping
Ni**a, vroom-vroom, yeah I’m rich bi**h
Got two Rollies but one missing
Think my daughter flossing, she in Kindergarten
Got one crib worth two cribs
And my front lawn, yeah that’s water fountain
You be talking boss, saying big words
Like philosophies, man you weird homie
What it sounds to me that you broke as f**k
And your bi**h gon leave and that’s real homie
A Dashiki on, with a fedora on
And my round glasses, trying to fool the cops
I’m with you dot, on that sneak dissing
When you penny bi**hing ni**a, shoot the fade
Ugly ni**a, but I’m fine as wine
Did you check your time, I get good with age
Shoot the nine like, fourth grade
Black Hippy dropping, eyebrows raised